If only.
Those two words had been bouncing around Philip Thornberg’s head ever since his brother Kris had found his mate.
If only, his bear echoed, with such deep yearning that it pierced Philip’s heart.
Not that they weren’t happy for their brother. They were, truly. Kris deserved every bit of happiness that had come his way. He and Cassia were perfect together, their bond so effortless, so undeniable, it was almost painful to witness. Almost. Because while Philip was overjoyed for his brother, he could not deny it also left him feeling like the odd vine out, tangled and untended.
Philip shook his head and focused on the job at hand. He needed to get the last of these new vines planted before the end of the day. They were a hybrid variety he’d been experimenting with for a couple of years, and this year he was certain he’d gotten it right.
The young vine leaves quivered in a gentle breeze, and Philip’s fingers brushed over their delicate surfaces almost automatically. The vineyard gave him purpose, steadied his restless heart, but even acres of thriving vines couldn’t fill the void inside him.
But he would never begrudge Kris his mate. No one worked harder, loved deeper, or deserved more.
His bear stirred inside him, more restless than ever. We work hard, too, his bear pointed out. Kris might blend award-winning wines, but you gave him the best raw materials to work with.
Philip chuckled under his breath. True enough. From the time he could walk, he’d felt a pull to the land, an instinct for growing and nurturing the vines no amount of schooling could teach. His father often said he had inherited it from his grandfather, but Philip knew it was more than genetics. It was bone-deep. A calling.
See? his bear said. Kris isn’t the only one who’s put his life into the Thornberg Vineyard.
Yeah, Philip agreed. Still doesn’t change the fact that he’s got Cassia and we’ve got dirt under our nails.
If only we could find our mate, too, his bear sighed. Like Kris did. Devote our life to her...
As if on cue, the sound of laughter drifted from the direction of the old barn, now home to the vineyard’s new restaurant.
Philip glanced up. Kris and Cassia were walking hand-in-hand, shoulders touching as they made their way over to him.
“How’s it going?” Kris called out.
“Good. Good. I’m nearly done planting,” Philip replied, standing and brushing off his jeans.
“They look amazing.” Cassia leaned forward to inspect the young plants. “I swear you work magic with these vines.”
“I wish,” Philip grinned. “But it’s just years of hard work and patience. And a sprinkling of luck.”
“Don’t sell yourself short.” Kris placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “You have a rare talent.”
Philip shrugged off the compliment with a modest smile, reaching for a nearby spade. “Talent or not, these little guys don’t plant themselves.”
Cassia crouched beside one of the newly rooted vines and brushed her fingers across the young leaves. “But even so...there’s something about the way you do it, Philip. You’re a nurturer.”
Philip paused mid-motion, the spade heavy in his hands. “A nurturer?” he echoed, his lips pulling into a crooked smile. “Not sure anyone’s ever called me that.”
Cassia glanced up at him. “Well, you are. The way you care for these vines, the way you know what they require before they even seem to need it. It’s something special.” She waved at the neat rows that stretched out behind him, their leaves fluttering in the breeze like a hundred tiny green flags. “You don’t just grow grapes here; you grow life.”
Her words struck something deep inside. For as much as he longed to meet his mate, he also wanted children. A large brood who would dash up and down the rows of vines under his watchful gaze, playing hide and seek…
Yes, that is the kind of life we would love to grow, his bear said wistfully.
As if sensing his brother’s melancholy, Kris tried to lighten the mood. “Season’s looking good, though. If this carries on, we’re going to have an amazing harvest.”
Philip nodded as his eyes roamed the rows and rows of vines. “Best in years. Plenty of early rain. No late frosts. The vines have produced healthy buds across the board.” He glanced at Kris. “Your blends are going to be award bait again.”
Kris nodded and smiled with pride. Pride he deserved. “It’s a joint effort. My blends would be nothing without your grapes.”
“You know,” Cassia began, “you Thornbergs are terrible at taking compliments.”
“We prefer modesty,” Kris replied.
“Modesty has its place,” Cassia teased. “But you should also give yourselves some credit. This vineyard? This family? It’s all because of the way you Thornbergs pour your hearts into everything you touch.”
“That told us,” Kris said, looking at Cassia with such a look of love that Philip had to glance away, his chest tightening with that familiar ache. He busied himself with the spade, plunging it into the soil with perhaps a bit more force than necessary.
Kris clapped him on the shoulder again. “Well, this particular Thornberg needs to get his mate into town before the hardware store closes. And I have some supplies to pick up for Mom.”
Cassia stood and brushed off her jeans, still smiling affectionately at him. Cassia was like the sister he’d never had. “Don’t work too hard.”
“You keeping busy helps,” Kris said, without looking up as he firmed down the ground around the freshly planted vine.
His bear stirred again. Busy’s good. But it would be so much better to have someone to stay busy with.
That’s something we have no control over, Philip muttered.
No, we do not, his bear said forlornly.
Cassia nudged Kris. “Come on, loverboy. We’ve got errands to run and not much time before we need to be back to help open the restaurant.”
“Your wish is my command,” Kris said with a mock bow.
“Really?” Cassia asked with an arched eyebrow.
“Really,” Kris replied, leaning in to kiss her lips tenderly.
Philip averted his gaze, focusing intently on the soil beneath his fingers. The way they could be so casually affectionate with each other, so completely in tune, it was both beautiful and a reminder of everything he didn’t have.
“We’ll see you later,” Kris called as they walked away, their hands finding each other’s again as naturally as breathing.
Philip watched them go, heart tightening just a little. They made it look so easy.
It could be, his bear said. If only.
Maybe we should get Finn to place an ad for us, Philip joked, just as his phone buzzed in his pocket. He brushed the dirt off his hands and pulled it out.
Talk of the devil, his bear muttered, as his brother’s face appeared on the screen.
Philip answered. “Hey, Finn. Are you calling to tell me you’ve found my mate?”
Finn laughed. “I would if I could. But no. I’m calling about Mom and Dad’s anniversary. I figured it was about time we all got together to make plans.”
“You’re right, we should get on it,” Philip said, leaning against a post. “Time goes by so fast.”
“It sure does,” Finn replied.
“So, what do you have in mind?” Philip asked, balancing the phone between his ear and shoulder as he moved to check on the next row of vines.
“I was thinking we could throw them a surprise party,” Finn said, his voice crackling slightly over the connection, which wasn’t unusual out here in the mountains. “Something big, with everyone there. They’re always doing things for us, and I can’t remember the last time we properly celebrated them.”
Philip nodded, though Finn couldn’t see him. “I like it. They deserve something special.”
“Exactly!” Finn’s enthusiasm was obvious even through the phone. “I’ve already talked to Stanley, and he’s in. He suggested we dig out some old photos to make a slideshow.”
“Perfect,” Philip replied. “Although Mom will definitely cry.”
“Oh, she will,” Finn agreed. “So, the best thing is if we all get together and trade ideas. I figured Kris and Cassia might organize the catering.”
“And I could organize the decorations,” Philip offered. “I can use the vines and add in some flowers…”
“Great. We should all meet up,” Finn said.
“Let me know when and where,” Philip replied, already picturing how he’d decorate the venue.
Maybe we could use the new restaurant building, his bear suggested.
“Hang on. I’ve got another call,” Finn said, sounding breathless. “I have to go. But I’ll text you the time and place!”
“Sounds good.” Philip shook his head as the line went dead. “Classic Finn.”
A party, Philip’s bear said happily. For Mom and Dad.
Philip’s phone buzzed as Finn’s message came through: Meet at the Old Larson place, 4:00 PM today.
Philip frowned. Strange spot. I thought the Larson farm was abandoned.
That would make it the perfect place to plan a surprise party, his bear said.
That’s true, Philip agreed as he texted Finn to confirm and checked the time. 2:30. Plenty of time to finish planting and clean up.
As he wrapped up the last of the planting, his mind wandered to the upcoming celebration. His mom and dad were an inspiration. Not just for expanding the vineyard, or the way they raised their sons, but for how they loved each other unconditionally. Fifty years together, and they still looked at each other like they’d just met.
If only, his bear whispered.
He gathered his tools, put them away, and headed back to the house, where the scent of freshly baked bread greeted him. His mother stood at the kitchen counter, chopping carrots.
“Do you want something to eat?” she called, without looking up.
“No, I’m going to head upstairs for a shower and then I’m popping out for an hour or so,” Philip said as he passed through the kitchen.
“Meeting anyone?” Leanne glanced at her son with hope in her eyes.
“Finn,” Philip replied, pausing in the doorway.
“Oh,” Leanne said, her hopes dashed.
She was wondering if we were going to meet our mate, his bear said, hating the look of disappointment on their mom’s face.
If only, Philip sighed.
“Will you be in for dinner?” Leanne asked, going back to her chopping.
“Yeah, I should be back around seven at the latest.” He paused again. “If you and Dad want to eat earlier, I can heat something up.”
“I’ll make a plate for you,” she said, ever the caregiver.
“Thanks, Mom,” Philip said. As he ran upstairs, it was as if he had been transported back in time. As if he were a ten-year-old kid, not a forty-two-year-old man.
Damn, he needed a mate. A family. A home of his own. It wasn’t right to still be living with his parents at his age. But since his life revolved around the vineyard, and his mate had remained elusive, there never seemed much point in moving out.
But as he showered quickly, scrubbing the dirt from beneath his fingernails, the thought persisted.
Because something feels different, his bear said. Can you feel it?
Philip rolled his shoulders. It did feel different. He didn’t know how. And he certainly didn’t know why. But it did.
Maybe our “if only” is about to come true.